The Waiting Game
by Andrea Weiling
Summary: Eh. Another angsty fic by me. One-shot, centering around Ernest's "secret" from Garu's point of view.


The Waiting Game  
  
I'm waiting, Ernest.  
  
Sometimes, when I'm talking to Leena, I can see you reach out for a moment, then draw your hand back. Your face gets blocked then, and you can't seem to say anything to me for hours afterwards. Leena said that when she calls me, I turn directly to her without any hesitation. She says that's what makes you act like this sometimes.  
  
This is a game of cat and mouse. I wonder what you're thinking, and you don't tell me. You're the telepath, right? I've tried everything, Ernest, and I'll get you to tell me someday. But this is one of those secrets you hide really well, like the fact you have a little brother called Erts who's also in the Academy. And when the mood strikes you, the secrets you hold don't get told to me. I don't like you hiding things from me, Ernest, especially a secret like this. It seems very important, and it also seems to involve me. I think it's because you're in love with me, Ernest.  
  
Is that your big secret? Are you afraid I'm going to abandon you or something? Nonsense. It doesn't change anything, Ernest.  
  
When you get that 'closed door' look on your face and fall very, very silent, I try not to be harsh. But it's hard, and I always get the feeling I'm making everything worse by trying to cheer you up by being nice or something. Leena says that when you're like that, I should just act myself. So why do you get that look on your face. Your smiles are strained. Your eyes look tired.  
  
What's wrong, Ernest? You can tell me anything. I'm your best friend. We've been through a lot together, Ernest – we survived training together, and both became pilots. We were the Tops. I thought you were happy. But now, sometimes, I catch you looking at me when I'm talking with Leena. Sometimes your gaze falls on that earring that's on my left ear, and then darts to the identical one on Leena's left ear. Ernest, love can't be eating you up that much. Tell me what's the matter, Ernest. I don't like you hiding from me like this. I know where you go, Ernest, when you don't want me around. That relaxation room, right? I could easily find you, Ernest, while you're staring up the fake blue skies and hear the vents blow wind into the room.  
  
But I don't go looking for you. Patience isn't my thing, I know. Leena told me that. But I have to be patient here. I can't push you when you're like this. I'm a little afraid that if I don't do something, you're going to drift away from me. And then it'll be all my fault for not asking you anything when I had the chance. Is it me, Ernest? I'm trying my best to be your friend, but you're asking a lot, you know.  
  
Leena just tells me to be myself. But you don't seem to like me when I talk about you having boring conversations and being depressed. Ernest, this isn't the way you were before. What's the matter, Ernest? Is the battles? Are you really too tired to talk to me, like you say you are?  
  
The waiting game is boring me. It's going on too long. Yet I find myself paying more attention to it these days. Ernest, when are you going to tell me? I'm your best friend, remember? You can trust me. You do trust me, right?  
  
* * *  
  
You didn't say it, Ernest.  
  
I waited a long, long time. Then you died today and didn't say it.  
  
This morning, I woke up to find you in the cafeteria, staring down at your food and picking at it. When Rio asks you if you're going to eat it, you push it towards him and go away. I'll admit I'm a little hurt, Ernest – are you going away because of me? It didn't seem two days ago that you were my closest friend. Piloting has made things busy, but I saw less and less of you every day, until tomorrow, I know I won't see you at all.  
  
You went with the highest honors, Ernest. You were the greatest telepathic pilot who ever piloted the Luhma Klein. Now everyone's already starting to talk about Erts, your little brother. They say he'll surpass you, Ernest. But I don't think so. Even if he did, I don't think you'd care, Ernest. Piloting never meant much to you.  
  
I think I meant a lot, though. In fact, I think I meant more than enough to you. Enough to send you over the edge and make you die when I should be dead. Why did you do that? It wasn't written anywhere that "Ernest Cuore is supposed to save Gareas Elidd when he's about to dive into a suicide run and he knows it". It's unwritten, unspoken anywhere. So why did it happen? Why did you throw yourself into the midst of everything when you know you CAN'T WIN?  
  
I think you felt your life was a disappointment. And I think I've made your life a disappointment. I just know it's me. That little secret that concerned me. I know about it, Ernest. You didn't need to hide it at all. I knew all the time. Did you think I couldn't see it?  
  
And now I can't. You're not here anymore, to touch me, to let me know you're there and you love me. It's sad and it feels strange.  
  
If your life's been a disappointment, blame me. Don't blame yourself, though, Ernest. It's not your fault. It never is. Look what you've done for us, Ernest. Saved our butts a million times, raised a little brother and survived training for someone you barely knew. Me. You went through all that trouble for ME.  
  
I wonder when you figured out your feelings, Ernest. I wonder why I wasn't there when you rolled over and started to cry when you realized I wouldn't be there, feeling the same way. See? It's my fault, Ernest. It's my fault your life's been so miserable. But I can say it now. Just hear me –  
  
I love you, Ernest. Really. Maybe not in the way you'd want me to, not the way you wished, but I still do. I'm sorry if you take all my jokes as mean words. I wonder how you put up with me for so long. You have so much patience, Ernest. But in the end, I think your patience ran out when you screamed into battle and became a Victim chew toy. I think you were starting to think like me, just a battle before, when I ran headlong into the melee and didn't care about my life. That was the fierce love of Zion inside of me, Ernest. I wasn't trying to hurt you.  
  
You've made your point, Ernest. I know how life's precious, now. I won't throw it away like before. I promise, Ernest.  
  
You've taught me a lot, Ernest. About patience, about anger, about yourself and me. I saw through your little ruse about your 'secret' being absolutely nothing, but even though I acted like I knew, I don't think you knew that I knew that you loved me. I think you were mistaken, Ernest. I think you didn't realize that I hadn't pushed you away.  
  
Your brother's a good boy, Ernest. You've always been proud of him. But he's unhappy, especially when we're around. He know that we're your friends, your comrades – and not his. I'll try, Ernest, to make him happy again. But I promise it won't be by killing myself. I know you wouldn't like that.  
  
Your little secret. You never told it to me in the end. I never knew for one hundred percent if that really was true that you loved me. Leena and everyone else I've asked said that that was what you were hiding from me all along, but I don't know. There's a lot I never knew about you, Ernest. It kinda hurts, knowing you never told me some things. Like this secret. You hid it so well. Why, Ernest? I'm not going to kill you for it. Maybe you were just afraid of getting hurt. That's understandable, I guess.  
  
I guess.  
  
We played a good game, Ernest. A waiting game. We were both timed on it, Ernest. You kept just one thing from me, and soon it started to build up. Soon you wouldn't tell me anything, and drew away from me. What happened there, Ernest? I don't understand. And then just when I think maybe you'd come back to me because you were so lonely, you just went ahead and did what I tried to do before. Kill yourself. That's right, just take the sword and plunge it in, won't you? And that's not the worst part: the worst part is knowing that I did it. Not you, but me. The reason I'm sitting on my bed and Leena's pounding on the door and there are tears soaking through my pillow is because I did it. The reason Rio's sulking in the relaxation room and pacing around and muttering things is because I did it. The reason Erts doesn't have his wonderful big brother anymore is because IT WAS MY FAULT.  
  
You're so forgiving, Ernest. If you were here now, I know you'd make me eat my words. But you're not here anymore, are you?  
  
We played a two-player game, Ernest. In the end, despair timed you out. But even though there were only two players, I didn't win. No, Ernest, nobody won. 


End file.
